


Awkward

by syrupwit



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Time, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/pseuds/syrupwit
Summary: Willow says, “Um. I swear this doesn’t usually happen?”
Relationships: Willow Rosenberg/Buffy Summers
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2019





	Awkward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [punch_kicker15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punch_kicker15/gifts).

Willow says, “Um. I swear this doesn’t usually happen?”

Her face and ears are bright red. Buffy notes, with genuine fascination, that the flush extends below the neckline of her stylish yet sensible periwinkle camisole. The camisole that Buffy was in the middle of taking off five minutes ago, before Willow started levitating and a sudden flash of magical energy rocked the motel room and surrounding areas. Dammit.

“That’s good, because I’d wonder how you managed to avoid destroying our house ten years ago,” Buffy says lightly. “Unless you got really good at sneaky home repairs and didn’t tell me.” 

The bed is the only furniture still standing. The overhead fan, embedded in the opposite wall after its violent ejection from the ceiling, struggles valiantly to spin. In the distance, Buffy can hear car alarms from the parking lot, some attended to by their puzzled owners. 

“Oh god.” Willow covers her face. “This is so embarrassing. Our first sexy time ever, and I totally ruined the mood.”

Buffy pats Willow’s knee. “Don’t sweat it, Will. It’s not every day that two hot chicks like us hook up. Something was bound to go wrong, just to restore the balance of the universe.”

“Stupid magic!” Willow groans into her hands. “Can I get a do-over?” 

Buffy scooches closer on the bed and slips an arm around Willow’s shoulders. “Hey, this is me, remember? You can get as many do-overs as you want.”

That gets Willow to look up and smile. Buffy has always thought that Willow had a cute smile, but it feels like she didn’t really _ know _ it until the past year, or however long it is she and Willow have been engaging in their friends-or-more-than-friends courtship thing. A warm gooey glow spreads through her chest. 

She leans in and pecks Willow on the nose. Willow giggles and smiles wider. Then Buffy has to take her hands and kiss her for real, obviously, and then she has to kiss her again, and then—

“Wait, wait.” Willow pulls back, gratifyingly breathless. Her hair, which she’s taken to wearing short again, is sticking up in various directions. “Before we get carried away again, let’s try to clean this up, maybe? If I were a rock star, I might not feel bad about it, but…”

Buffy pouts. “Aw, I wanted to trash the place. Can’t we at least throw some appliances through the window?”

Willow boggles at her in mock horror. “Why, Buffy? Why?” 

“Just exercising my right to be difficult.”

“You’re such a diva.” Willow grins at her, then hops off the bed. “Come on, let’s do this.”

They make short work of the motel room. Luckily, it doesn’t seem that any breakable things have shattered, and lifting furniture has never been a problem for Buffy. The overhead fan is the only real challenge, or would be if Willow weren’t a witch. Everything is almost back in order by the time they hear a timid knock at the door. 

Buffy peers through the peephole. It’s the attendant from the front desk, looking sheepish.

“Er, ladies? Is everything all right in there? There were some noise reports.”

“We’re fine,” says Buffy through the door. “Just. Got a little carried away doing yoga. Bedtime stretches, you know. Keeps you… limber?” She cringes.

_ “Yoga?” _ Willow mouths, somewhere between embarrassed and incredulous, and Buffy shrugs. Willow is re-hanging a painting on the wall. It’s one of those weird motel room paintings that is itself a painting of _ a _ motel room, though not of _ this _ motel room. Buffy has spent time in a lot of motel rooms during the past decade, and she’s never particularly “gotten” those paintings.

At least it’s not a creepy haunted portrait or something. Buffy has encountered quite enough of those for one lifetime, thank you very much. Same with haunted dolls, haunted rocking horses, haunted lockets, haunted secret passageways between adjoining rooms… There’s a reason that she refuses to stay in bed and breakfasts anymore, no matter what their online reviews look like. But that’s all besides the point. 

After a moment of considered silence, the front desk attendant says, “Okay. That’s great. Well, just let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ll be good.”

Buffy waits until the attendant has disappeared down the hallway. She turns back to Willow, who is having a hard time holding in her laughter.

“Yoga,” Willow says, and Buffy says, “Oh, shut up.”

“Keeps you limber,” Willow says, and Buffy says, “I mean, can you deny it?”

Willow pretends to think, tapping her chin. “Hmm. Let me think.” She looks Buffy up and down appreciatively. “You know, I really can’t.” Her eyes are sparkling. The warm gooey glow starts melting through Buffy’s chest again.

“I’ll show you limber,” says Buffy nonsensically, and pounces on her, sweeping her up in a princess carry. Willow shrieks and laughs and covers her mouth. She’s still laughing when Buffy kisses her.

They make it back to the bed eventually—the poor bed, still lightly dusted in plaster from the overhead fan’s misadventure—and resume the activities that precipitated this whole disaster. This time, the periwinkle camisole comes off. It turns out Willow’s blush goes pretty damn far. 

At this junction, Buffy is briefly struck by how surreal the moment is. This is _ Willow _ she’s touching. Her closest friend, who knows her like no one else. They’ve seen each other at their worst and their best, and they’re still here, together, in this room right now. And it’s _ good. _

She must be thinking too loudly, because Willow stops kissing her neck and says, “Are you okay?”

Buffy considers. “Yeah. I guess I just love you or something.”

“Aww.” Willow’s smile is goofy, but her eyes are huge and dark, impossible to look away from. “I love you too.”

Buffy’s not sure how to process how she feels right now except through vigorous physical activity, and it seems that Willow is much the same. Thankfully, this time nothing explodes.


End file.
